


Tumbling Weightless To Soar

by Elke Tanzer (elke_tanzer)



Category: Lost Boys (movie)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Multi, Threesome, Vampires, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2006, one of my best, recipient:Bangles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-24
Updated: 2006-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elke_tanzer/pseuds/Elke%20Tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David, Star and Michael.  This is dark Santa Carla, blood, lust and the crash of the sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tumbling Weightless To Soar

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to Laura McEwan and Wyomingnot for beta duties.

David knew what he wanted, and went after it. He'd collected a motley band around himself, daring them one by one into joining him for a fateful drink, and then finding even greater enjoyment in the process of seeking out their weaknesses and exploiting them. His seductive games were cat and mouse, until his mice proved themselves hunters in their own right by making their own kills. His group was rough and ready, as powerful and as reckless as the bikes they loved, as wild as the wind along the coast. Their own speed far outmatched their bikes by now, and they reveled in their freedom. He was happy with his men, but he did want more. And David always went after what he wanted.

David wanted a girl like Star. A fragile beauty, a siren seductress, a princess turned gypsy lost in the wilds, in desperate need of a protector to shelter her from the likes of his domineering self. That bait in his trap would let him bring a different sort of man across into the darkness, building strength through both numbers and diversity. So David went after Star, by way of a little lost waif named Laddie.

Laddie knew what he didn't want. Laddie never wanted to grow up, never wanted to die. His mother had died, had been sick for a long time, had aged before her time. He had dreamt of Peter Pan, of boys who never aged, of a beautiful woman named Wendy who would mend the hurt-filled places inside his heart as easily as she mended a shadow. He had dreamt of running away, so he did.

He didn't find Peter Pan, but he did find David.

David took him in without imposing any rules. David told him that he'd found his Wendy, that her name was really Star, and that he could have all that he wanted if he'd just help David get her, and so he did. Laddie had always been a clever child.

Star hadn't really known what she wanted when she first met Laddie, but the boy had needed someone to care for him, to do him the slightest kindness. She knew he was a runaway, but then, so was she, so she looked after him as much as she could whenever and wherever she could find him.

She was soon placing his needs above her own, even when the charismatic and dangerous-looking David approached her on the boardwalk one night, dragging the child by the elbow, telling her that Laddie had snuck in and stolen food and wine from his hideout. He said he'd forgive the trespass if she'd have dinner with him, if she'd go for a ride. She didn't mind dangerous-looking men, especially after David turned on the charm, and so she'd used some charms of her own and met him halfway. That had been her first night riding behind David on his bike, arms outstretched like she was flying as the ground blurred away beneath them.

She raised a deep red glass in toast with him a few nights later, and her world changed.

She forgave him his little games whenever she found herself in his arms... he stalked her like the predator he was, tossed her into the mound of blankets that served as her bower, kissed her senseless and then explored every inch of her, every murmur and sigh, every quiver and shudder and moan.

As time wore on, she began to understand more about her own wants, her own needs, what made her feel powerful and desired and fearless, what made her feel alive. And as she understood what she wanted, she began to go after it.

Star wanted independence and men of her own, beautiful men clinging to her in desperation as their worlds crumbled. She wanted soft lips and strong arms and eyes that hid none of their vulnerabilities, and she wanted men to lose themselves in her. David was too powerful, too masterful, saw her as too helpless. She wasn't helpless, especially now, but it served her purposes to let him think that of her.

It was easy to lure boys at the edge of manhood from the boardwalk and off to more secluded places, taking their breathless kisses and fumbled embraces with sly joy. If she stole a few nips here or there with her increasingly sharp teeth, none of them seemed to mind and in any case they couldn't complain. David or one of the group was always there, hidden in the shadows, waiting for her to pull away from her mark, her face flushed as much as the boy's was pale, ready to swoop in and take their fill, stealing so much more than the few small bites she'd begun, and disposing of the body before first light.

She usually returned to the hideout just as dawn tinged the eastern sky, listening idly for the cackling, swooping laughter than heralded the gang's return as she walked barefoot through patches of grass along the rocky coastline, catching dewdrops between her toes. She didn't bother to walk along the rocks, protecting herself from the rough surfaces by gaining more and more surety on short flights. She was looking forward to the morning when she could soar right along the length of the incoming waves, trailing her fingertips through the spray of sea mist. She suspected that the longer she waited before her first kill, the stronger she'd become, and she liked being strong.

Michael had been one of her marks. She had wanted him, wanted him clinging to her, wanted to taste the tang of his blood on her tongue. When David had interfered, she'd been angry more than hurt, but she adjusted her tactics quickly. She let David be the dangerous stranger, the threatening dark angel who held the keys to her soul. She looked to Michael with lost helplessness in her eyes, and he tumbled anchorless into her embraces.

David knew that Star was play-acting the reluctant victim once he'd convinced Michael to take his first drink, and when he was alone, David grinned silently to himself, covering his fierce glee that he'd chosen so wisely and been so lucky with Star. He'd suspected that most men wouldn't be able resist the urge to fall into the role of her protector, and she was passing his tests with flying colors... sometimes literally. She was really beautiful in motion now that her powers were taking a more complete hold, though so far she'd resisted an independent kill. David thought he knew why... she could appear even more vulnerable, more in need of protection, if she was oh-so-trapped in her in-between state, the doomed gothic heroine trapped at the edge of darkness, reaching for the light. The mystique let her ensnare with such deadly accuracy, he couldn't fault her delay one bit.

Star didn't bother to tell him that she was simply hedging her bets. She had a gut feeling that this little band wasn't large enough yet to survive on its own, that David must be counting on something or someone more powerful for protection, and she wasn't about to trust her existence to something she'd never seen for herself, wasn't about to commit before she had to. She resisted the urge to kill when she fed, resisted the urge to confront David about it directly, and instead concentrated on Michael.

He was beautiful, despite his current pallor from resisting the lure of the blood. He would feed soon enough... he would have to. She took him to her bower again and again, trailing fingertips and kisses along his skin, wakening him to the new desires with a deft gentleness that belied her original intention for him. He was lost, in every sense, and she allowed him to seek himself against her skin. She wrapped herself around him and distinctly did not tell him that anything would ever be all right again, and he yielded to her long before he would ever yield to David's encouragements to kill, to feed.

Star knew that David was watching them. She closed her eyes, tossed her hair, and knew the firelight glistened prettily against the sheen of sweat on her skin. She increased her hands' pace, taking Michael once more to the heights of his pleasure and then holding him there with her mouth, drawing his desire as far as desperation, then sliding her body up against his to take his moans between her teeth until they were no more than incoherent gasps. Then she pulled back, kneeling astride and above Michael as he gasped for breath beneath her, and looked directly to the spot in the shadows where David stood silent.

She lifted one slender arm, gestured with her index finger.

David stepped into the firelight, eyes hungry. She took her finger into her mouth, tongued the length of it, caught the tip between her teeth.

David left his clothing in a heap on the floor as he nearly blurred his way to her bed.

It took Michael some moments through his haze of blood-hunger and arousal to realize that there were more hands on him than only her two, an extra body against his side. She quieted his startle the same way she'd quieted all of her marks, with no explanation and simply the offer of acceptance, the offer of solace in her arms, and soon he was arching into David's kisses, David's embrace, just as he had arched into hers. He tossed his head, lost once again in the sensations, and when David reached for her and placed her hips above Michael's cock, she twined her fingers through his and bit her own lip, a bead of warm blood rising as she offered the kiss that would take this encounter that one step further.

David claimed her mouth, tasting the heat of her, feeling the beat of her heart in his own veins. He tangled one hand in her hair, pulled her kiss tighter against him, then rocked her hips down. Her own cry was silenced by David's mouth, but Michael moaned low and long, his whole body shuddering before the instinctive urge to thrust took hold. David pulled back from Star, his gaze intense, as he freed her hips to match Michael's rhythm, then kissed Michael, his hunger undiminished.

David reached down to scratch his nails down Michael's chest, and three thin red lines marked that perfect skin. Michael groaned deep once more and found his release at last. Star wrung one last gasp from him, then smiled her sharpest smile at David, who knelt up behind her and grasped her hips once more, raising them away from Michael's and pulling them back toward his own as she bent to feed.

She lapped a long stripe up Michael's chest just as David entered her. He thrust deeply, reaching one hand around to slip unerringly to her most sensitive place. She cried out with Michael's blood on her tongue, his pulse steady under her palms, and felt David's sharp teeth break the skin where her neck met her shoulder. The draw of him feeding combined with the power of Michael's blood sent shudder after shudder all through her, and her release swept across and through her like the crash of breakers on the rocks outside. David cried out with her, a hoarse, triumphant groan, as he spent himself in her.

When the rest of the gang returned home with a rush of raucous laughter a few hours later, she barely cracked one eye open long enough to register that Laddie's clothing was soaked with blood, or that Michael's younger brother was with them.

She did wonder idly a few nights later, as Laddie shared a drink with his new friend Sam, whether Laddie had taken that new canteen from his first kill.


End file.
